To Hell and Back Again
by gizmo-gal
Summary: Vegeta, now an old man & one of the last Z-Fighters, takes the time to look back over his first lifetime. 6/28/2010. Characters incl: King Vegeta, Tarble, Nappa, Frieza and more!
1. Looking Back

A/N: To Hell and Back Again is the first of a planned trilogy with each instalment spanning one of Vegetas 3 lives. This first story is divided into 3 sections, or parts. The first part, the 1st ten chapters of this story, covers Vegeta's early childhood and pre-Frieza life. Please bear with me concerning the pacing. (Or give me tips/reason to speed it up!)

I had been planning to write this story for a long time now. I was inspired by many of the great fics found on this very site. I had delayed, for one reason or another, the writing of it for almost 3 years and had come to think I would NEVER write it. It is largely due to one writer, Maddie-San, that this tale is finally being written and submitted for your reading pleasure and my ego stroking.

Like any other narcissist- I mean, _writer_, I truly enjoy feedback on my work. So please, take a few seconds (or several) after you have read this chapter and leave a review. Thanks for reading.

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**CHAPTER 1. Looking Back**

I may not look it, but I am old.

Years past my expiration date and the time is beginning to take its toll on me.

Oh, by human standards, I dont look old. My wife would say that I was perfectly middle aged in my appearance but I am closing in on the end, which is someting that no longer causes me discomfort to think about. I am beginning to _feel_ my age now, more often than not. I find more and more often I am likely to nap in the middle of the day, when, in the past, I barely slept 4 times a week on Earth. Now, I'm napping an hour away almost every other day.

Despite how long its been, how old I am, I can still recall my earlier days.

After carrying the memories the majority of my life, and piling in so much more knowledge and a million or more new experiences, it might be considered amazing that I can still recall my childhood, my first and earliest life. But I can... I spend so much time remembering now, the house is quiet. My children are grown and though I still train daily, I've began to take small breaks during the day.

Before any such a break was driven by some urgent need; I'd be hungry, or likely, I'd need to pee. But, my appetite isn't as strong as it once was and without the Bimbo around to cook, well...Lets just say that I can stand to eat just twice a day without feeling deprived.

My earliest memories are vague in my mind now, but only a little more vague to me now than they were when I was 12, or 20, or 35 even. Yet, they are there and they are true. If I close my eyes and empty my mind, the image will come...

_I'm in a garden, gazing out in awe at a pond, or the remains of one. The damage isn't extensive, not compared to what it could have been, but I caused that mayhem and the power is dissolving around me in the air and I am thrilled and tickled by the sensation of it_.

Discomfort of any sort, is absent from the memory of that sensation.

There is no pain or hunger, only satisfaction as I laugh at the ruined pond that my first successful energy blast destroyed, quite by accident.

I can still feel a faint echo of pure joy and wonder, when I see that picture in my head.

I was a year old.

I do not remember getting in trouble for it, but I know that I did. Because Sparga, one of my fathers many sons, got in trouble for not watching me properly and held it over my head for as long as he lived that when my mother saw what I'd been allowed to do to _her_ garden, she'd punished us both-or rather, told me "No" in a very firm voice while _he_ was punished for my misdeeds.

I grin now as I recall that it surprised my Earth companions and family, many years and two lifetimes later when they learned that I had a younger brother.

Bulma in particular was incensed that I'd never deemed to tell her about Tarble. She'd lose it if I were to tell her about all the others

It shouldn't have been a shock though. To her or any of the others.

Tarble was only one of my fathers many bastard offspring. Being the king comes with perks, you know. Its only common sense that having as many concubines as you want would be one of them. Since humans in their modern societies seem inclined to monogamy, it would put Bulma off to learn that Saiyans aren't.

Saiyans are territorial, Saiyans are possessive of the few things that we have "declared" as ours, but we rarely call dibs.

My people are natural rovers and wanderers. Possessions slow you down. They get in the way, they are not neccessary. We use our strenght, agility and instinct to live. We built a few cities, but intentionally left as much of the planet intact as nature had shaped it. In the city it was far more common for a Saiyan to sleep on his roof, then IN his house, if he even bothered to have one.

We are creatures of habit and dont like too much switching between routines. Since we tended to camp out in the open when on an adventure and some kind of way, the habit got passed down from one generation to the next and before you know it, its only natural for us, sleeping in the open. So we did, even when we had other options.

Anyway, where was I?

We Saiyans have no royal couple. We have either a King _or_ a Queen, but always just one leader at any given time. The Rulers strongest, most capable child is named the heir and upon the death of their parent, they become the new ruler.

In general, at almost any given point in our history, there was a shortage of females among the Saiyan population, but in the past several generations their numbers had come back up...some.

My father was the king, he had 7 concubines and a mistress.

(The only difference is concubines are officiated as having been selected by the King as his mates, he can dismiss them from his harem or retain them for as long as he's alive. If anyone were to screw one of his Concubines well, they'd die a very slow, very painful death and they'd do it with_out_ their man-parts. Mistresses are unofficial and tend to remain with strictly the king for favor or political protection.)

Anyway, Mother wasn't any one special prior to my father officiating her as his concubine. While his other concubines had been taken for one strategic political purpose or another; strengthen a tie with some Saiyan clan with this one, reproduce strong heirs with these three...

Father fancied my mother for her wit and exotic looks, she was on the higher end of being a 2nd class fighter, she came from a family of scholars and loyalists.

A lot of people were outraged when he officiated her as his concubine, but there was little, actually nothing, they could do to stop him. He _was _the king after all. After he had one man killed for spreading horrific lies about her, the rumors and constant bad mouthing stopped, and people remained respectfully silent on the matter of their union.

After I was classed as an elite at birth, the first baby in a few decades to be born an elite, people no longer had many bad things to say about my mother. As I grew and shone even brighter with potential and promise, their compliments began to grow sincere.

Anyway, I had a good childhood.

I was the appointed heir to lead my people. I had brothers and sisters both older and younger than I, but I was their leader. In the earliest days, it didn't matter so much. I was strong enough to spar with them, and a fast enough learner that my lacking in training didn't cause them to shun me. As I grew, so did their mothers jealousy of me, and by the time I was about 6 or so, I was no longer on good speaking terms with about half my siblings, but for the most part I was neither particularly close nor distant to my siblings.

We didn't share a typical sibling bond, not typical of Saiyans anyway. We ate together a couple of times a month but we all had our own lives, we took lessons with private tutors and trainers. We were, of course, isolated from the majority of Saiyan children, we played with the children of noblemen, of first class and elite warriors. I was protected by a special guard force, and later there was Nappa.

I was very advanced for my age, a true prodigy. I excelled in all things Academic and Martial alike. I moved through classes and levels twice as fast as Cele, one of my sisters who-prior to my arrival-had carried the mark of distinction as being the cleverist of my fathers children.

I spent several months in a grade, where my siblings might've spent a year or more to master the material. At one point or another, I was in a class with all my older siblings, with the exception of any bastards my father sired before being crowned the king, as they were all either adults with children of their own or dead by the time I was born

As I grew more advanced, I also grew more isolated, but I dont think I was lonely. I had mother, a few constant playmates and, ofcourse, Nappa.

Nappa was...

Nappa...

Anyway, ahem... Nappa was my companion.

He became the captain of my guard detail from the time I was a toddler and my teacher as I grew beyond the level of the typical instructors. Beside having been appointed by fate as the heir of my father, and future leader of my people, I was also my fathers favorite. Not just because I was strong, but because I was, in his eyes, the perfect son. I was mild mannered, but fierce. I was intelligent, a great student in both academics and martial arts training. I was clever and good at strategizing. I suppose, looking back, I was a pleasant enough child.

Father admired that I was ambitious, and could sense my devotion to the Saiyan people was genuine. I truly cared about the Saiyans, my people.

My father was a bit...eccentric, I suppose, in that he took interest in all his children and spent time with us, in groups and individually. Not much by human standards, but those 2 or 3 days a month when his children were his complete world, made him nothing short of a phenomenal father by my peoples standards. He was a busy man, but liked to eat with at least some of his children and concubines every now and then.

He'd often stop us in the corridors and ask us some questions about our schooling, our respective mothers and our health. Many times there was a peice of candy to be won out of the whole ordeal, personally I preferred his approving look and hearing him call me his son. Life at the palace was good, but it was nothing compared to campaigning life.

I went on my first mission when I was, oh about 3.5 by human reckoning. No, not on my _own._ There was a long standing campaign, a series of planets especially reserved for 1st class and elite warrior forces. Unlike the usual, run of the mill, kill-and-conquering missions my fathers soldiers often participated in, this was a diplomatic mission.

The Saiyan Empire had a few allies who provided us with supplies and goods of both a technological and agricultural variety.

It was a true allience, we didn't attack them, they didn't attack us. We were equals, in a political sense anyway. We Saiyans were content to let them live and work with us, and they were content and gracious enough to supplement our foodstores whenever we were running low. Anyway, this mission was 100% strategic. There were 4 planets that had united to try and stage a rebellion. Our allies had taken severe damage and suffering, so we Saiyans were going to teach the rebels a lesson about pissing off Saiyans.

The trip took a long time, or it seemed like a long time to me then. I had never been pinned up anywhere for more than a few hours at a time. I had never been in one bldg. for 2 weeks at a time. I trained with my siblings and seperately, in my spare time because I enjoyed it. My father had had the foresight to bring a few tutors with us, but we children teamed up and managed to drive them all to distraction more often than they could force us to learn.

After the second meal, I'd sneak through the vents and go and spy on my fathers private training sessions. He was drilling katas, every evening (well, the time between the 2nd meal and sleep, anyway. There is no night and day in space) after supper. I had never seen the style before, it wasn't too flashy but there was power in his strikes against the air. He was in a surpression room for a reason, after all.

Once, when the tech went to grab a coffee, I snuck down to get a look at the controls and saw that it was set to 150 R. I didn't know what 150 Resistance meant but I stared in awe and amazement, watching as my father defeated one imaginary opponent after the next. His moves were so precise, so measured, that though he was alone, I could practically see his opponents. I think that he could also.

I was awed!

It felt as though I had seen the battle take place my self, as if, by watching him, I had seen his opponents, witnessed their defeat. I wasn't sure what they were...their features were obscure but their silhouettes were vivid in my minds eye, the more I watched him. I heard the controlman coming back and scrambled back the way I'd come. It'd be my secret.

It took about 3 weeks to get the star system and we were greeted with hostilities, of course. We Saiyans had conquered this planet a generation ago, my father was a little boy when they signed the servient and tribute treatise and become subject to Saiyan rule. The Saiyan peoples survival depeneded, in part, on the various goods that we got from them, we were going to put them back in their place, not wipe them all out. Which is why, despite my eager calls to "wipe these scum bags out!" my father just smiled a little as the ship began to shuddered under the force of the assualt bolts and lasers being fired at us. Father told the pilots to engage the shields.

A minute later, I could still hear the strikes echoing through our sheild and making the air in the ship reverberate with the force, but our course was steady. When we landed, my father assigned each one of his children to a squad of experienced fighters. He reviewed the mission objectives once more, and then sent out his patrols. I, alone, accompanied with him and his elite guard.

We took our time, made an example of the rebel leaders and wore their spirits down, we kept the damage to a minimum and even exercised our Reserve Policy against them. It took a month, but with their leaders dead and their will to fight exhausted, the rebellion was put down and my father set up a Martial Court to rule the planet, and feeling generous, even addressed some of their greivances.

It saddens me now, to know that Saiyans are only remembered as being cruel, souless, mindless, brutes with no real intellect to speak of. But they weren't.

There were stupid Saiyans yes, but stupidity isn't exclusive to anyone race or people. A majority of the Saiyans had been academically ignorant, true. Especially during my great-great grandfathers time and before, but the Monarchy had been working to reverse that problem and we had a 75% literacy rate, we used mercenaries for the bulk of our technological needs, simply because we didn't have the Saiyan-power to work on and develop all the technology we needed, but 13% of our tech staff were Saiyans who'd studied and learned the advanced sciences.

We had a series of treaties with planets known for their academic prowess that allowed a certain number of Saiyan youth to attend their schools each year, provided we paid their tuition and they caused no casualties to the people of those worlds. The moral of the story is; Saiyans weren't inherintely evil, nor were we some big band of monsterous thugs, terrorizing the universe.

We were a people. A whole race. Within the Saiyan race, we possessed all the elements and out-of-the-norm individuals found in a society of sentients. We had enough people to give us all a bad name, but mostly, we were like any other race in that era. There was a boom in colonization and expansion as many races hurried to carve out a future for their own people and posterity.

I was a very small child then, and I had never killed a sentient being before. I'd never seen anyone die. I didn't feel the terror that a weaker being might feel, nor did I feel frightened. Yet, I can admit that I was a bit unsure of myself, that first time I witnessed battle up close.

We'd broken through their barricade in one of the capital cities and stood in the town square, as the rebel soldiers took cover behind barricades and energy shields. Father called for them to surrended. They refused. We gave them one more chance to surrender. I will never forget that the rebel captain cursed my father _and his Demon Spawn_ to hell.

I made a sound in my throat at that. It was intended to sound like a growl, fierce and threatening like my fathers and older brothers. Instead it was a scratchy-squeaky sound that illicited laughter from the enemy that stung even more than their lasers could've.

Father offered them one last chance. They pretended to think about it for just one moment, the next instant, they were firing on us with a mixture of ki blast and laser weapons. The sight of all those brilliant, searing lights racing towards me is another vivid memory. For just an instant the whole world is throw into stark contrasts and the air is too thick and hot to be breathed and then...

The world around me explodes in a rush of sound and smoke and I bit my lips hard so as not to scream but I still make a sound, somewhere between a scream and a yell.

The light was too bright, I closed my eyes at the last moment but I didn't try to dodge anything. I never felt worried that I would be hurt. I distinctly remember NOT being afraid as what might have been death approached me that first time. My eyes, useless because of all the flashes, are closed and I hear a rapid, hollow beating sound and I open my eyes to see, I rub them to clear my vision, like waking from a sleep.

I'm not surprised when I realize that my father had created an energy shield around us just a split second before the blasts hit. The men with us laugh a little and make comments that I don't understand. My father gives them a full minute, then he raises his fist and there is a 'pop' and a 'woosh' as the guards around us leave the safety of the shield and engage our opponent.

We stood together the whole time, Father and I, as a battle raged around us. It was a ground fight. A couple of Saiyans shot down fighter ships but for the most part, it was an old fashioned down to earth brawl. My father stood beside me, commenting on the fight taking place just several feet in front of us.  
"Do you see how well our soldiers fight, Vegeta?" he said to me.  
I nodded, then remembered myself. "Yes father, they're good aren't they?"

He laughed at that. "These men are some of the best." he tells me. "Do you know why they're fighting?"

"Because those losers attacked us." I volunteered. "They're going to kill'em now, right?" I asked. In my books, people always began dying the instant a Saiyan warrior took the offensive.

Father chuckled, "Yes, my son, These traitors are about to die." He was cool, matter of fact. I beamed at him.

"See there?" he singled out a skirmish between a single Saiyan and unit of the rebels. "If it were you in that fight, what would you do next, Vegeta?"

I replied immediately because I'd already thought about it.

"Take out the gunmans assistant." I pointed. "That other guys keeping his ammo from running out but the gunman himself is useless, thats why he's just a gunman. Even a dummy can hold a button in place." My father and I both grinned at that.

"Why would you target the assistant? Why not the gunman?"  
"Because," I said, "the gunman is behind a shield. I saw it when some rocks flew at him and they got turned to dust. But the assistant-guy, he's bleeding from the ear. He's open to attack. If you gotta hide behind trick-shields, you're probably gutless. The gunman'll run the minute he's all out of ammo and then I wouldn't have to get burned just to get him."

The look in my fathers eyes was...pure pride. I stood a little taller knowing that I had caused it. The battle was brief, only about 10 minutes and then the rebels were all dead or fleeing. One tried to crawl away as his legs lay behind him in a tangled mess. One of the guards grabbed him and spoke in a language I didn't understand, he asked him a question, shook him when he took to long to answer and the demanded an answer again. The man croaked something and after a quick glance at my father, who nodded, the soldier snapped the mans neck, effectively ending his misery.

"This way to the magistrates base, my lord." The guard said as he joined us once more. My father took down the shield and we walked on at a brisk pace. We encountered a rebel barricade every hundred yards or so and by the fifth one, my father permitted me to join the fray.

I'd like to say I made my first kill that day, that I was a regular trooper from jump but the truth is it would be a few more years before I killed a sentient being, a person who could intelligently communicate their wishes, needs and desires to me.

Instead, I had a few good spars. The first serious fight I had ever been in. It made me feel very grown up, and independant to be asked-by the King no less-to take out the gunmens assistances at one barricade in particular. There were 4 of them. They didn't pay me much attention, I was little more than a toddler in their eyes and I'm sure they thought it quite ludicrous that the King had fetched a brat from playschool to come and do battled against what they considered to be a dangerous rebel faction.

I was classed an elite at birth, but at that age my maximum power level was 274, Though I only had to use about half my maximum power anyway. They really weren't a powerful race. I still wasn't that good with energy attacks, though I'd been working on them and so I had to go fist-to-face on the gunners assistants.

The first blow, I recall thinking it was like striking a jelly-mushroom I'd found in the woods once. The creatures were soft flesh and the man screamed and I screamed too. I dont know why, other than it felt good. The difference was my screams were exultant and wild with accomplishment, while his were wild with hysteria and clearly motivated by agony. I hit him with my elbow then, he collapsed, gasping and choking on blood.

The 3rd guy got his shield up before I could deck him properly so I stuck my bare hand into his shield, I could feel the heat of the shield burning me, like water thats too hot. He yelled and screamed and I yelled and blew him 30 ft back with a close range ki attack. When this skirmish was over, their groaning and crying is what let us know they were all still alive. I hadn't been going for a kill, but I'd assumed they were finished. I was a little dissapointed that I'd failed. My father put one hand on my shoulder, and congratulated me.

It took close to a month before we were done with the mission. Four planets, an extensive rebel network between them and our intensive efforts to do no more than the absolute minimum of needed damage to the planet itself.

Plus, there was also all sorts of paper work. I hated that part, the first couple of days I sat in the room with my father, quiet and idle while he and his council and the leaders of the now complacent rebels went over details and drew up a new first two days I declined to go play with the others and stayed as near my father as I could. I had wanted very badly to be a grown up about this whole thing. Yet, on the 3rd day, when my father asked if I'd join him, I politely declined and went to find someone to play with.

Two days later the business was concluded, a new treaty signed and we were on our way home. We took the long way back home because we had to make a few stops on the way back to different planets and systems, but there was a general air of excitement and accomplishment that seemed to grow with each passing cycle.

Every sleep time they sent us to our beds, I lay awake, listening to my older siblings talking about their respective exploits, anticipating the praise they'd earn from their mothers for their heroics. No one asked, on the whole trip back how _my_ first mission had gone. It was a little upsetting at first. They had never purposefully shunned me before and I knew that, everyone of my siblings wanted to know what the Saiyan King was like in action and was probably curious about how I had handled myself. But they didn't ask.

I got a curious feeling in my chest when I realized that they _wouldn't_ ask, but on the whole, I found that I didn't mind. As I listened to my siblings tales and revelry, I knew in my private mind that I didn't need their approval or companionship.

I'd lie awake remembering the feel of my fathers hand on my shoulder, the pride in his voice as he congratulated me and I'd anticipated my mothers approving smile and I knew that I'd be just fine.I wasn't quite 4 years old, so I had no way of knowing that a nasty surprise was waiting for me when I got home that would disrupt my peaceful existence and begin the process of taking my mother from me.

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Story Word Count: 4,670.

So, whaddya think, hmm? Please dont forget to review and chapter 2 will be out soon.


	2. Usurper

**Chapter Two - Usurper.**

Our ship, the SSJ 9000+, made landing just in time for breakfast. Being Saiyans, there was a dining hall just off the landing bay and we'd called ahead for the meal. We children had been lethargic for the last leg of the journey as infinite blackness seemed to sludge by our windows, but the moment we touched the gravitational pull of the planet we'd become excited and alert. By the time the door had opened and we were cleared for unboarding we all but burst from the belly of the ship. Half of us were stampeding in excitement, while several others tried to be dignified and proud. I settled for beaming giddily but not running ahead.

Besides, what was the point of getting to breakfast first if we still had to wait for Father, who would never disgrace himself by making a fool of himself over a simple meal, to arrive at the table before we could eat? I was the only one of my fathers children who'd washed up before sitting down, I didn't have to double back and then be reseated. Which meant I made sure that I got a good seat, plenty of meat and fresh produce within reach.

My fathers soldiers entered after that and took their seats. Saiyans aren't much for small talk, and the soldiers were always careful whenever one of us were around, they couldn't, well, rather they didn't, dare to be disrespectful or make crude jokes within our hearing range, lest we repeat it and gladly credit who'd ever taught us to say filthy things.

I had just enough time to become irritated at the fact that Father was taking his sweet time to get there before he arrived. His hands and face still slightly wet from where he'd washed them.

"After a good trip, a good meal." he announced, then proceeded to eat, which was the all the cue we needed. Most Saiyans aren't much for words, and being royalty doesn't exclude you from the basic characteristic of Saiyan nature. Besides, a hungry Saiyan has little patience for words.

There were about 20 Saiyans all told and servants near every door, working overtime to remove dirty plates and refill low dishes. We ate heartily that day, more food than I was used to but it was delicious. The seasons had just turned and the fruits and vegetables were all perfectly ripe. We Saiyans didn't generally cook produce, fruits and vegetables were almost always eaten raw. Cooked meat was something of a delicacy, but we ate alot of it at the palace, I thought everyone ate cooked meat all the time.

After breakfast, we were dismissed; we were given the rest of the day off. I was at a loss about what to do, I dawdled in the washroom for a bit, wondering what to do, then I peeked out to see what Father was doing. He was talking quietly to a messenger. He waved me off subtly as I approached him, so I just kept walking. Then, realizing I couldn't take _not_ bragging a minute more, I ran off to find my mother.

Normally, my mother liked to sit in her garden, beneath a large tree and enjoy the day. At this time of year, the garden trees were practically dripping sweet fruits. Mix food with a favored past time and almost no Saiyan would pass it up. I wasn't sure what to make of the fact that no one but some servants were in the garden. I asked about my mother and they informed me she hadn't been in the garden for a week.

We Saiyans are a hearty breed and sickness rarely crossed my mind, especially in those days. My mother was very strict about education; she was always talking with my tutors and having them adjust my curriculum accordingly. We spent a couple of days a week in the palace library, (My mother came from a family of scholars) so I went there next. A few people were there, none of them my mother. I was getting annoyed now. I thought maybe she was training then and went to the royal training grounds. A few of my father's concubines were there, so were many of my siblings. Those who'd accompanied father on his trip were bragging and exaggerating the tales of their exploits to those who'd been left behind.

I was getting fed up so I marched up to Kakara, and asked about my mother. "She isn't in the library, the gardens, nor is she here." I informed her. No Saiyan takes that long to eat, she knew we'd be arriving so why hadn't she come to me? I wondered

"I suspect she's in her chambers," Kakara told me shortly, I frowned at that. Kakara was never impressed with me and she didn't bother to hide her disapproval of my attitude.

"In her chambers?" I repeated.  
"That's what I said." Kakara replied, I waited for her to say more, but she didn't.

"What for?" I demanded. As far as I knew people were only in their chambers for sleep. Both of my parents were early risers and I didn't like the idea that in my absence mother had become a sloth.

"Run along child, I'm busy." Kakara said, waving me off. I grit my teeth at her then went to find my mother.

I told myself Kakara had sent me on a fools errand because mother was never in bed during the day. I was used to seeing her in bed in the evenings, sometimes I'd sit with her and talk until it was time for me to go. Whenever Father came to her chambers, I had to leave immediately, and I was too young to even know to ask questions about the reasons why.

I was surprised and excited when I made it to her chambers and despite the fact that breakfast had come and gone, she was still in bed. I hurried to her, so excited I forgot that I was puzzled about her being here. She embraced me and I nuzzled her neck and wiggled in her arms, coating myself in her soft fragrance.

"My son has returned to me," she said happily. "I was worried you'd forget about me after having been to battle like a real soldier."

"No, mama, of course not." I assured her, then I informed her that I _was_ a real soldier.

"No, of course, you aren't. No son of the Kings is a mere soldier." she told me.

"I took out the gunmens assistants. All by myself." I told her. "We marched through the cities one at a time, father killed the rebels. Their gunmen had good aim and electro shields. Their assistants kept giving them more ammo and I took them out." I fished in my pocket. "Its my first trophy," I showed here a string of dull grey rock looking things. When I saw her puzzled expression. "I took a tooth from every one I knocked out. Its for you."

My mother smiled and embraced me once more, she patted my head and told me what a fine job I had done.

"See, I _am_ a soldier." I insisted."

"No my son, you are a warrior." She replied, "Soldiers are just fighters, they take orders and do what they can to complete them, soldiers are little more than armed servants. A soldier must be trained to be a fighter and rarely are they any good at it. Soldiers are uncouth men and women who hire out for money or are so weak they allow themselves to be scripted into the service of another. But we Saiyans, we are a warrior race." She said to me, and I was transfixed by her voice, her beauty, her scent. At that moment I was aware of my love for my mother.

I have never, ever forgotten the words that followed her declaration. They weren't especially profound, not as fancy as some great speeches delivered throughout time. But it was the most profound thing I had heard up to that point and I had no way of knowing it, but her next words would be the fuel that sustained my soul through my darkest hours for many years to come.

"A warrior is not a soldier. A warrior is born, not made. Saiyans are warriors. We warriors are greater than the battles we fight or the hardships we face. We are strong, proud and independent. We are free, because we cannot be tamed, and we are civilized because we live by our own code, because we choose to be free. When things go badly, we do not regress to mere looters and deserters, as do most soldiers, we steel ourselves and embrace challenge. Warriors are to soldiers as wolves are to a wild dog. No matter how matted its coat, how thin it might grow in the winter, a wolf remains a noble creature. Even if only in its soul."

I smiled at my mother and nuzzled her again, drinking in her scent. I wished I was big and strong like my father at that moment, so that my chest could swell in pride and she would know how much I loved her. A breeze blew in through the open windows and a servant hurried to close it.

My brow furrowed a moment later as I noticed something odd about her scent, I sniffed her a few more times and sat back to take in her appearance.

"Mama?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Why are you in bed?" I asked, and, noticing it for the first time, "all propped up on pillows and stuff."

Like I said, Saiyans weren't given to fluff and fanciness, many times my mother took her actual rest in her garden. She enjoyed being outdoors. Now she was sitting propped up in bed, under a blanket with her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Mother laughed softly. "I'm rather tired, Vegeta." she told me. "Didn't you hear?"

"Tired? So come to the garden, its warm out." I told her. My instincts told me something was wrong then and it was only then that I noticed it. A strange, faint scent.

"They didn't tell you?"

My spine stiffened as I scented the air, I turned and looked and there, in the corner, about 10 ft from mothers bed was a strange little bed-type contraption I had never seen before.

"Mama?" I asked distractedly, "what is that thing?" I went to confirm with my eyes what my nose had already told me. There was something in the contraption. Something alive and weak.

I peered in and saw a naked, scrawny, little baby lying in the bassinet, sleeping quietly.

"He," she emphasized the word. "Is your brother."

I gave the thing a critical look. Scrawny...wrinkled...ugly...pink...limp haired...it had a strange scent. I didn't like the smell, like the insides of a body. I felt for its ki, not very impressive. I shrugged.

"Why is it here?" I asked. She shot me a look and I repeated myself, "Why is _he_ here" I corrected myself.

I had a ton of half-siblings roaming around. They worked out in a pinch, if ever I needed a sparring partner or a playmate but we weren't a very close-knit troupe. Even in the days before they decided they didn't like me. We each went to our separate mothers and we all vied for fathers attention and favor, but I almost always won.

I was my mothers first and only child. I had no ill-will against my fathers other concubines, they didn't like me, but I didn't care what they thought. They had to defer to me because I was not just a royal bastard but a prince. _The_ prince. I saw no reason my mother should be bogged down with the brat of another woman. I had plenty of things to do, but my mother was always on call for me when I wanted her to be.

"Where should he be?" mothers tone was amused. I shrugged...Outside, in a nursery, a cage. I didn't care, anywhere but here.

"Somewhere else." I told her.

"Why?"

"It smells weird."

"All babies have that smell for a few days."

I looked at her as something clicked. "You've been holding it!" I accused her. She was surprised by that.

"Thats the smell...that bad stench." It wasn't really a bad smell, but I was livid that in my absence my mother had been coddling and fondling some other kid.

"Now, Vegeta," she began.

"Get it out! Now! I dont like that smell...you should take a bath mama." I said, "before father finds out." I added menacingly.

Even if it had been someone else's baby, my father wouldn't have cared that my mother had held it. But "before father finds out" was the argument one could make to coerce someone to do just about anything. The threat of King Vegeta finding out was enough to make everyone straighten up. Soldiers, children and servants alike. I hoped it worked on mothers also.

"Quit being absurd." she told me in a stern voice. "This is your brother, he can and will stay here."

"Why?" I pouted, I couldn't remember a time when mother had ever denied me anything before. "I dont want it here."

"He," she said pointedly, "is your brother."

"So? Sparga is my brother and Mato and Turpin!" I said. "_They_ don't have to stay in here!"

I think I was in denial at this point. I refused to accept the idea that she'd had another baby behind my back, I didn't even let it cross my mind.

"Vegeta, come to me." she said gently, sensing this was going to go badly no matter what she said or did. Being a mother, she decided on a nurturing, gentle path.

I stalled by the crib, then I cast it—the usurper—an angry glance and stalked away from it, but I stopped short of sitting on mothers bed. _It_ had been on the bed, polluted the bed with its nasty stench which grew more unbearable by the second.

"Come here my son," Mother coaxed me "Don't be defiant."

I was contemplating the matter when my father came in, I looked at him desperately. Surely he'd have this...this...abomination put on the balcony (or in a prison!) or in the garden, (or in a cave!) or in the servants quarters. Or in a hole. A very deep hole! Then we could build some big heavy statue over the hole to cover it up. I was counting on him to talk some sense to mother. To make her see the folly of this nasty little brat living in her room _with_ her.

"Ah," father said to me, "I see you've met your brother."

'Its no brother of mine.' I thought. But all I said was "Father," in a pleading tone.

My father did something rare then and picked me up, as he approached the crib. I didn't want to go back over there, but I was trying to make sense of this being carried business and then I found myself staring down at it once more.

He looked….ugly. Wrinkly and thin, his hair was lacking stiffness. Only females were supposed to have limp hair.

Father frowned. "He is weak." he said, I had never heard that tone in his voice. It was a mix of sadness, disappointment, and...I dont know what else. It was like he was sorry, his voice sounded the way I felt when I failed to do something right.

Mother didn't comment. And we three were silent for a moment,

"Is his lord displeased?" my mother asked finally. No one was ever casual with my father.

Father sighed, "It cant be helped," he said quietly.

"Will you name him, my lord?" she asked after a moment. It was another one of my fathers quirks that he named all his children individually. He visited each of us after birth and watched us for a while before pronouncing our name. Most Saiyans were named by their mothers, but my father wanted us to each have a fitting name and insisted on naming his children himself.

Father was silent.

I could think of several things I might like to call this, the usurper. But I wisely kept my mouth shut.

King Vegeta was a good father by Siayan standards but he was still a Saiyan and he believed strongly in discipline and corporal punishment, I was a minority among his children in that he'd never struck me, I never did (or rather I was never _caught_ doing anything) worthy of a beating. With my world suddenly pushed out of orbit I wanted—needed, something to stay the same.

"What was his reading?" Father asked after a long time.

Mother stiffened a little, but her voice was firm. "10" she said. I grew still at that. I knew that was bad. That wasn't just bad...it was horrible.

A special system is used to measure a Saiyan childs power level. You read their resting power level, their actual power level, like you do for anyone, and there is a formula used to calculate their power level within 5 years. When we're born we are stimulated to an agitated state so that our natural power level will show it's self. Usually you just yank the tail sharply and the child will react. Then they measure our power level.

When I was born, my resting power level was 56, my actual power level was 125. My adjusted power level was calculated to be 700.

The average baby has a power level between 35-50. 55-75 is 2nd class. 76-90 is first class. 100+ is elite. It's extremely rare for a baby to be born of Elite class. Below 30 and your low-class. Beneath 15 and your a 3rd rate, low class. Beneath 10 and your practically a no-body.

All my fathers children had been born 2nd and 1st class. I was the only to have been born an elite. Now, this...brat had come along—seemingly out of nowhere as far as I was concerned—and not only stunk up my mothers room, or tricked her into caring about him, but he was an embarrassment. Not just too our family, but to our race.

He smelled.

He was pathetic.

He was a loser.

He barely qualified as a "somebody"

and worst of all, he was my brother.

It took almost a week for my father to decide what to name the new kid. By then, every one of my siblings new about it. About him. About his...condition.

Everyone was gossiping about him. I didn't care, but it was annoying. People had thought that my father and mother were the winning combination. I had been the first baby in ages to be born an elite. I was a prodigy in all things martial and academic. I was on par with children much older than me. I'd figured out ki on my own when I was a year old. I was a whiz in math and had become a fluent reader almost the first day I was taught to read. For the most part I was even well mannered and I had a great memory.

Apparently, I was the only one caught off guard by the arrival of my mothers 2nd baby.

Saiyans have very unique growth patterns. We tend to have about 4 growth spurts during our entire life time. During these times we experience a very rapid growth over a several weeks, going from one physical phase to the next.

The first one is in the last few weeks of pregnancy. Where we go from being a little blob of ki and flesh in our mothers womb to being tiny babies, perfectly formed but practically to small to be believed, in the last few weeks of pregnancy the Saiyan fetus grows from about .5lbs to 15lbs.

As a toddler, I had just finished my second growth phase. I had finished my growth spurt a short while before going on the mission with my father. Before I'd stood little more than a foot tall, even though I was intellectually and physically about 5. Now I had nearly doubled in size, at 2' 7" (NOT counting my hair), this new body had been bought at the cost of every fat store my body had, but I now lived in the more capable body of a child. Secretly I was thrilled because, I was so much taller!

The rapid growth made you feverish and clumsy but it only lasted a couple of months at most. During the growth phase it seemed that I was always, always hungry. I was eating four Saiyan sized meals a day and had stripped every bit of fruit from my mothers gardens. I'd even eaten some of the rations that were stored for long distance missions.

My hunger pangs had faded just in time for me to be in shape to go on the mission with Father, but I had spent all the time leading up to the trip eating, think about eating, wishing I were eating and wandering around hoping to find something to eat until my next meal.

But, where was I...Oh yes, the brat.

Much to my annoyance, father named him Tarble. I especially hated that it was paired so naturally with my own. I didn't want to be his brother. I didn't want to be associated with him. I didn't want to be pegged with him and I especially didn't want our names flowing together out of people's mouths.

"Vegeta and Tarble." Polar opposites, one great, the dream child of every parent. The other pathetic, every parents nightmare. I tried to think if it would be so bad if he were the son of some other woman, if I'd be as bothered him if we didn't share the same mother.

Its not like I'd been the baby of the family up until then. I had four siblings younger than me before Tarble.

Vegeta Tarble.

It didn't matter. I hated the idea of him existing and I couldn't justify why exactly. I didnt like that his scent had taken over mothers chambers or that she breastfed him. That she bathed him and giggled when he blew spit bubbles and worried about him when he was unwell. (He was a sickly infant. Saiyans were rarely ever sick!)

Vegetarble

I didn't like that my father didn't dis-like him, or if he did, he kept his dislike secret. I knew that Father would never tell Tarble that he didn't like him. A part of me was afraid that father would actually like him.

Vegeta and Tarble...Tarble and Vegeta...

I complained about the name to my father, but he didn't care and he told me as much.

"I give each child their name as I see fit." He said, "When you have children, one day you will understand and then you can name them whatever you like, or not at all."

"I still dont like it." I insisted, one of the earliest signs of the impudence I was to develop later in life.

My father gave me a look that made me regret my words and in that instant I knew that I was about to be hit-by my father, King Vegeta,-doubtless, it would hurt. But I didn't back away from him, and I think it was that single fact that saved me from being struck, my refusal to back down or let my fear make me weak. Father turned away from me, "I still dont care."

I was dismissed. Everything about his posture and his tone told me as much and I left quickly. I was shaking a little as I replayed the scene in my head over and over again. I couldn't face father after that for a long time.

I spent my time as usual, between lessons and training and every moment I was hating Tarble.

Tarble, the weakling, the embarrassment, the stinker. I couldn't admit that I was jealous of him. I mean honestly, who could honestly envy him?

He was special only in the fact that he was somehow strong enough to survive his own birth.

Did I mention that 10 was his _adjusted_ power level?

Rounded up?

Because it was.

When they performed the calculations they discovered that his projected powerlevel in about 5 years was _expected_ to be 10. He'd been born with a rare defect that made his power level unstable. His resting power level was in a constant state of flux. The MedTechs had checked it twice a day for a week and it shifted between 2.8 and 3.4. The defect was not uncommon in Ki-weilding races but extremely rare in Saiyans. Normally a baby born with this defect died soon after being born, if they'd even been born alive.

Tarble, being a Saiyan, despite his laughable power level, was just strong enough to survive his own weak, power.

How ironic.

Truth to tell, it was only blatant jealousy I felt. I was used to seeing my mother maybe once a day, sometimes less, sometimes as much as 3 times a day. Saiyan infants mature fairly quick and we dont breastfeed beyond 3 or 4 months. By the time we are a year we are able to walk, run, jump and play. At a year and half, we could reasonably live in the wild on our own and not perish, provided there was food to be gotten to.

I couldn't explain why I was jealous. I didn't need or want mother to feed me and hold me the way she did Tarble. I took communal baths with my brothers and on my own. I was the only child who had his own room. I was still fathers favorite, even if my poor attitude toward Tarble disappointed him. Despite all this, I was jealous, fiercely jealous. I had gone from not liking him, to hating him. I recall carrying the secret wish that he'd succumb to his defect and die.

Mother had tried to console me, she sent for me a few times and tried to talk to me about normal mundane things like we used to, but Tarble was always near by. She wanted me to get used to his presence, to relax and see what a nice baby he was. I wanted him dead, gone, forgotten and dead. In that order.

At first I stubbornly ignored him while being very stiff with Mother until she was forced to just dismiss me. Later she tried getting me invovled. "Your brother is trying to stand up." she told me once. "Come, hold his hands and watch as he pulls up." She tried to sound cheery about it but I wasn't having it.

She gave him one of my baby toys and I had a fit.

"Vegeta, you never even play with this old thing." She said to me.

"It's a baby toy," I argued. "I don't need it."

"Tarble does, he's a baby."

I frowned at that logic. "He's too weak," and I snatched the weighted block away before he could drool on it.

Mother didn't like to dwell on Tarble shortcomings. I didn't know how she could have possibly over looked them. The list was bigger than he was. Did I mention he was a runt?

She tried to get me excited about being a big brother but I was having none of it. Once she asked me to look after him while she did something in another room. He was a docile baby, he didn't cry or get into mischief. I had hoped if I put him on the floor he'd crawl into an air vent and get lost, but instead he sat there grinning at me happily with wide, innocent eyes the whole time. I used my feet to half roll him, half kick him toward the air vents. He started to sob a little, (I'm sure it hurt) but then I heard mother coming and literally tossed the baby back on to the bed and retreated to the corner. Wiping my hands on my pants. Tarble righted himself on the bed and look at me with confusion.

Mother asked me if I'd played nicely with him.

I sniffed and stormed out.

She tried once more to subtly trick me into caring about him. But after she caught me trying to throw him out the window when he was only a month and a half, she stopped trying to force a bond between us.

When my father learned of the incident, he decided that I had too much energy and too little control. He announced that it was time I had a more rigorous training program. He had the instructors take my training up a notch and it proved to be just what I needed to work out my new found aggression.

My siblings thought it was hilarious (and a little pathetic) that Tarble upset me so much.

Pargus, the brother who'd been charged with looking after me on more than one occasion when I was an infant said it was Karma coming back to get me for all the hell I'd caused him. He refused to sympathize with me.

"He's an ugly, horrible little runt!" I complained once. "Mother's crazy about him! She carries him around like a toy. I hate it. I hate _him_! He's an embarrassment!"

"Hey, I know," Rhye laughed, "give him half your power. Then he wont be such an embarrassment anymore."

"I wouldn't give him a bucket of bloody bile." I yelled.

Those present thought it was hilarious and laughed riotously.

I screamed in frustration and I fired two ki blasts in rapid succession. They blew up a tree and set the yard on fire. We all ran like the little hellions we were when we heard the staff coming, yelling and cursing at whichever little fool had blown up the courtyard-_again_!

Time passed and my behavior was getting worse. I honestly can't explain why Tarble upset me so much, but what I'm trying to portray is that I was out of control. My bad attitude was beginning to get in the way of business as usual. I began showing out in class, I was overly aggressive in sparring matches and while I'd never been a favorite among my father's children, I began to drive them away with my bad attitude, nasty temper and poor sportsmanship.

It took a little while before I was being completely shunned by them and then I acted out even worse. It was a horrible, miserable cycle and in my minds eye, the only thing driving the whole, unpleasant business was that little runt, Tarble.

CH word count 5,134. So thats chapter 2, whaddya think?

Sorry that its taken so long to update and a big thanks to all those who reviewed and added me to their faves.


	3. Consequence of Actions

Chapter Three: Consequence of Actions.

After I ruined the yard, father decided I'd outgrown the regular lessons and needed something more rigorous. He was preparing for a campaign on the edge of the star system and couldn't handle me himself, so he did the next best thing. He got me a trainer.

I was called right before breakfast the next day and I grumpily obeyed the summons to meet my father in the training yard. It wasn't even dawn yet, thats what I realized as I passed under the ledge that led into the training grounds. My father was standing in the middle of the open space and there was a giant of a Saiyan standing with him. The Giants hair looked really weird, unlike most Saiyans, he lacked any sort of sideburns. His hair grew in an odd strip-like tuft in the middle of his head, he had the stupidest looking mustache I had ever seen.

My father gave me a little speech, saying I was no longer a baby and too exceptional to be given normal treatment and that he couldn't-wouldn't-let me waste my potential by holding me back. He'd wanted to wait until I got used to my young child body and now that I had, I was obviously not receiving a challenge in my training any more and that no son of his would be allowed to 'go feral' and become as destructive as an Oozura during heat.

I nodded a lot and said yes sir. Not really sure where he was going with this whole spiel but glad that I seemed to be forgiven for my outburst weeks earlier. He had obviously gotten a report about my unacceptable behaviour, yet he didn't see drastically upset.

Then he indicated the stiff, giant Saiyan behind him.

"He's a first class warrior, back from a long term mission and newly promoted from lieutenant to captain, but he is off of active duty for a time so that he can work on a new project.

So what?, I thought to myself, why should I care and what did any of that have to do with me? And why couldn't it wait until after breakfast. Out loud, I politely congratulated him on his promotion and inquired about his latest project. Father smiled at me then, it was an odd, giddy smile, there was a secret in his eyes. The Captain didn't respond right away, so I asked him when his new project would begin.

"His majesty, the King could explain it better than me." the giant told me, he sounded like he was suppressing his amusement.

I thought he was a real idiot, to not even know what new project he was working on and when it began. After a moment of akward silence I noticed the air of expectancy about my father.

"Father, what is the new project" I asked, suddenly uneasy, my instincts at last waking up and telling me something was off. "When will this project start, is it important?"

"Very, 3 seconds ago and You." Father said.

Father had a peculiar way of speaking sometimes. He always answered a series of questions from back to front. The project was very important, had began 3 seconds ago and was...me?

I asked what that was supposed to mean and-then I noticed Nappa was gone. I tried to ask what was happening but at the last minute I saw a fist coming down at me and I dodged, only to be caught and thrown across the yard into a stone bunch.

When I dug myself out of the rubble I looked up, my father nodded in approval. He was smiling slightly, he was obviously pleased.

I didn't have time to be outraged as the captain, or the Capt. LugHead as I had privately decided to call him, was on me again. I had been training for as long as I could stand up, to be a fighter. Everything from weighted toys and special kata training to weighted jumpers and special diets. I had been a quick study and learned everything quickly and now I even had a little battle experience under my belt. All of that was so insignificant that morning as LugHead chased me around the courtyard, pummeling me and throwing me, it was shameful.

I was bleeding within 5 minutes. I was breathing hard in 10. He threw a small ki blast at me and I dodged it. I was born with good reflexes and naturally small. The ability to twist out of a full-on punch was the only thing that served me that morning. LugHead kicked me repeatedly. I kept trying to block but he could use a force that I simply couldn't counter.

He was so damn fast also. Every time I thought I might have an opening to strike, he was on me again and if I'd been silly enough to shift my arm into an offensive position, then I was hit. After I dug myself out of a small pile of rubble for the fifth time, I realized all I could do was defend.

I was strong, exceptionally strong from a child's stance and while I had been well trained, I had no real experience in a fight. I sparred with my siblings but I was stronger than, or at least as strong as, them anyway.

This guy wasn't one of my siblings. He was a first class warrior with more experience than I had dreamt could ever be had in one life time. I was a little brat. I was a stupid little kid, just four years old who had thought because my people counted me as special that I was.

I had never had an instructor hit me for the sake of hurting me. I didn't know what it was like to be hit by a person who was so much stronger than me, I didn't know that 95% of the punches I'd dodged in my lifetime had been pulled. Compared to what LugHead was doing, every punch I'd ever recieved could be counted as love tap.

I was sore by sun up and I wanted to quit. I called a rest as the big Oaf charged me, and he paused just for a moment, "I said break!" I said irritably. He hesitated a moment before backing up several paces. I was breathing hard and spit some dirt out. Then my world exploded in pain, the oafish LugHead had hit me in the gut, practically come out of nowhere and all the air rushed out of my body in a 'woosh'. I saw those bright lights behind me eyes that people were always talking about and thought I was going to collapse.

He hit me again and I did collapse. I feel to my knees and gaped like a fish out of water.

"I'm the teacher, I'm the boss. I'll call any and all rests around here." Catp. Lughead informed me. I glared murder at him, but he was not phased.

"You got that kid?"

I didn't answer him, so he hit me once more, to let me know how easy he'd been going on my all morning. My eyes rolled in the back of my head and fell face first in the dirt.

He let me lay there for a little more than an hour. My stomach was growling I was hungry.

I sat up and saw LugHead was standing on the other side of the court yard, admiring the morning. I cursed him in my mind, I hoped that his tail got a tack in it...and fleas.

When he continued to ignore me I pulled myself together and headed in for breakfast. I'd show this giant jerk what for as soon as I had some breakfast in me, that was my line of thought.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

I ignored him, he appeared infront of me and picked me up by the back of my neck. I kicked and struggled but I wasn't going anywhere.

"I said; 'Where do you think you're going,' didn't you hear?"

I disliked this guy already, now I hated him. He shook me a little and I went limp.

"Well?" he asked a minute later.

"I'm hungry!" I hissed. "I'm going for breakfast."

"Not before our morning session is over you wont."

"Quit messing around. I'm hungry."

"Too bad for you then, 'cause I 'aint paid to care." he informed me.

I punched him. Hard. In the face.

He didn't even flinch. For two minutes he was perfectly still, then he grinned.

"Hey! Maybe you've got potential like they say." he commented. I hit him again, as hard as I could, then again.

He just stood and took it for a few minutes. Then I started getting wild, he held me at arms length and contemplated me for a few minutes then he threw his head back and laughed.

"Alright, yeah." appearantly he'd made up his mind about me. "You've got some real potential there kid."

I was mad with rage then and I was tired, and hungry and sore and I had never been manhandled before in all my life.

"My name" I yelled at him, "is Vegeta. Ve-Ge-Ta! Thats Prince Vegeta to you! Do you know who my dad is? You jerk! I'm gonna pulverize you! My father is the King and I'm his son. I'll kick your ass even if you are a big ugly giant! I'm gonna get really, really, mad if you dont put-me-down right NOW!"

LugHead tossed me across the courtyard and I lay there, dazed and in pain.

"Ow." I said, for lack of a better word.

He came to stand by me as I struggled to sit up. I decided neither LugHead nor Oaf were bad enough names for him.

"Alright kid, here's the deal; I," he pointed to himself. "am going to teach you how to fight."

"Piss off," I muttered darkly. "I know how to fight."

"Yeah, you did such a good job of it just now." he said. Sarcasm dripped off his lips and I imagined it as dark oil on his stupid mustache, oozing down the hair and hitting the ground. Sweat dripped in my eye and I blinked.

"I'm not learning from you." I told him irritably.

"Yes you are. Now come off it, you need me. Admit it."

I remained stubbornly silent.

We both stood there for a long time (actually, I was sitting on the ground, and he was standing over me) glaring at one another. After an hour, TweedStash (That was the name I came up with him) reached out and shoved me flat on the ground.

I tried to sit back up, but he put his foot on my chest.

I frowned at him, stuck my tongue out. Called him names and used every curse word I knew and a couple that I made up on the spot. I wanted to focus on everything but the fact that I was about to cry.

"Admit it, and you can have breakfast." Lughead said mildly. "Admit you could learn from me and you can have breakfast."

"Nothing to admit." I sniffed. I didn't even have the will to stand back up, even if he hadn't had his foot on my chest.

"Then stand and fight for real!" the Capt. said, snatching me up by the leg and throwing me across the yard.

I was furious now and I found my pride. I was a warrior after all.

I came out of the cloud of dust at top speed, I lit into him with a fury and I rained punches and kicks down on him, he blocked each one neatly but I didn't care. For once I could hit at him and I wasn't going to pass up the chance. He stood in one spot, and after several minutes it occurred to me that he was using only one hand to block all 4 of my limbs and I got angrier.

I started bouncing around like an 'imp on crack' thats how Sparga used to describe my fits. It was lunch time before my new "teacher" grabbed me by the wrists and kneed me in the groin.

Like any male, I was properly subdued after my nuts hit the back of my throat.

"Look kid, you've got some potential but it looks like you've got at least one issue for every ounce of potential. You've gotta work through that on your own." He pointed up to a nearby balcony that over looked the training yard.

"I'm gonna go get some chow. You sit out here and think about whether you need a teacher or not."

Then he was gone. When I was done being dazed and achy it occurred to me that I could just leave. I made a move to do just that when a ki blast cut me off.

Everytime I tried to escape, or leave, a ki blast (or several of them) rained down to cut off my path of escape. I had never experienced anything like this and was at a total loss about what to do.

I thought I could simply out last him with stubbornness but I was unable to think when night had come and gone and day had come back and still every time I made a move to leave a ki blast cut me off. They were coming from different directions too.

I tried to fire a few of my own ki blasts, but I couldn't use ki fluently yet and in the time it took me to charge a blast was all the time that he needed to box me in with several small blasts. Once he even sent a wave of energy that enveloped me in a bubble and zapped me continuously for several seconds. After that I had to sit down and think about this...

I'd been trapped in the training yard for more than a day. It was going on dinner time on the 2nd day! I was starving. I'd never been deprived of food before, always there was something to eat. I could have a drink if I wanted one, I was welcome to have a snack anytime I wanted. People brought an array if ever I asked for a piece of fruit. Now, I was hungry...thirsty, hurting, hot and sore. My body hurt, my mind was fuzzy and stupid with pain and lack of sleep...my pride was hurt, and so were my feelings.

I sat miserably in the corner for the entire night and mercifully the ki blasts ceased so long as I sat still.

The next evening, I was beaten I waited for dawn to come and when the sun rose I walked over to the middle of the court and stared up to the balcony I imagined Nappa was at. It was the place he'd gone for his own lunch 2 days ago. A minute later the giant leapt over the banner and floated down to me.

He landed a few feet in front of me. "Well?" he said.

I clasped my hands together respectfully, I curled my tail downwards, submissively.

"I'm ready to learn."

My eyes were down cast. His big hand came into my line of vision. I glanced at him, placed my hand in his, he rolled his fingers up and shook my hand, my whole body shook a little.

"Call me Nappa, Prince Vegeta."

* * *

Word Count: 2,734

Aaaaannnddd, thats CH3. What do you think? I kind of like it, its like Gohan and Piccollo in the strictness. Gohan was a pampered brat, so was Vegeta. Only Vegetas initiation to reality is a little harsher, more intense. I like to think that Saiyans can only be measured in extremes to the human mind.

I'm sorry, I have no good excuse for not updating sooner. School started and my PC has been on the fritz but this has been sitting in my Email for months now. I'm go an upload 2 or 3 more times this week. Thanks for reading.


	4. New Developments

My sincerest apologies. I have no good reason why this is so late in coming, to make it up. I will update times within the next 10 days. okay?

**Chapter 4 New Developments**

Its amazing how much things can change-and with a little perspective, you realize that nothings really changed at all. Life is funny like that, that the more it changes, the more it stays the same. I've often wondered what it was about life made reality seem that way.

When I was a young man, I refused to accept that reality. I dissmissed it as mere drivel, ground my teeth and glared at any one senile enough to suggest such stupidity could be really true. I didn't want to hear all my pain, all my suffering, my bitterness and hatred and rage, regret and sorrow reduced to such a simple mix of words. "Life is a cycle, no matter how much it changes, it always remains the same."

As I think back on my childhood, look back over my life, I realize I haven't changed much since I was four. Since I was before 4 really. Yes, I've matured in many ways, but my nature, my character hasn't changed much. Even if it was painful and hard for me to act on my own natural character and impulse, they've been guided by the same base principles almost longer than I could remember.

When I was born, my life was molded into a sort of routine. Tarble, for whatever reason, disrupted and then destroyed that routine. When I was four, I got a new routine and I have to admit that I was able to really blossom under the strict new schedule, even if it took a little getting used to.

I awoke before dawn and met Nappa in the training yard, where we sparred until the sun was up. If I'd been good, I was allowed to eat breakfast, if not, I had to drill kata's until my attitude improved. I was always allowed a late lunch, just how late depended on me. It was Nappas way of teaching me responsibility and self-control. I'd been allowed to do as I pleased up until that point and had demonstrated that I needed help controlling my temper and getting over the Usurper, Tarble.

After a few weeks, I began to complain that our spars weren't fair.

"Beating someone isn't teaching them." I told Nappa, as I was finishing my lunch.

"How am I supposed to learn if you wont teach me, like normal teaching?" I asked him, shoving two ring-fruits in my mouth whole.

Nappa smiled at that. "Alright kid, alright, I thought you'd never ask."

That day after lunch, he said he'd teach me how to block a kick from a much larger opponent. This would be useful, I assumed, as he had very powerful kick and to date, I had been unable to counter or dodge his kicks. I was beginning to think I would have a permenant bruise on my back, just the shape of his leg.

He told me to assume a stance. I did.

"Lower" he said. I squatted lower.

"feet straight?" I nodded.

"Straighten your feet." he told me.

I was, for the first time in my life, covered in bruises and my lips had been swollen fat for days. I resisted the urge to argue or roll my eyes and just adjusted my stance.

He showed me the hand movements and had me practice them a few times.

"Thattaboy." Nappa said as he performed his kick in slow motion and I moved my hands in the proper form to stop it.

"Now, drill that...oh, 500 times."

"What? 500!" I yelled. This was absurb, the most I ever drilled any kata was about 50 times. All I had ever had to do before was show I had learned the movements and later use it in a spar, no one had ever made me do something 500 times.

"Are you crazy? I'm not doing this 500 times!"

"Oh? and just why not?" NAppa demanded.

I snorted. "Weren't you paying any attention, Capt. Lughead?" I hadn't even noticed that I'd called him lughead to his face. "I already know it!" I screamed at him. "I just showed you that I know it!"

"Oh really?" Nappa asked, and, being the stupid little chit I was, I barked "yes!" in a defiant manner.

Nappa spun in a blur and before I knew it, I'd been kicked again. I got my block up too late and was embedded about 4 feet into the ground.

Nappa was standing on the edge of the hole when I finally got myself out. "Why dont you run that drilll 2,000 times, then meet me over there for another spar.

I spit out a rock and glared at Nappa, but he was already walking away.

Everyday for a month, I drilled that stupid block, that basic kata, in my stance I'd perform the same basic movement over and over again, 2,000 times each day. Afterward I'd spar with Nappa and each time he kicked me effortlessly. My block was useless against him.

I started drilling it 5,000 times a day and doing it 1,000 times in my room before I allowed myself to sleep each night.

About 6 weeks passed all told before I successfully blocked on of Nappas kicks, I grinned in satisfaction when I realized that the only part hurting was a little part of my arms, because I'd blocked the kick. I didn't have time to be too happy, because just then he hit me.

Appearantly having mastered a "kick-block" meant that I was ready to have my guts spit up and he took to hitting me in the gut repeatedly. I got it through my head pretty easily that the block that worked for a kick, that was coming down had nothing to do with a punch that was coming straight at you. Then he taught me to block that and I didn't need to be persuaded to drill the move on my own several thousand times ,a day.

Thats the way it was in the beginning as Nappa's student. He beat me up regularly, and slowly taught me how to negate one blow or another. He worked me really hard and in the beginning I hated him, he was arrogant, he thought he knew everything and after having been his student for almost ten months, I was secretly beginning to fear that he did know everything.

We sparred for several hours every day. I was stubborn, strong, and despite everything, I really was a quick study so I was able to go for hours against him, but I was never in a position where I was winning. Its not as thought people just passed me through school to pass me, or said I was a prodigy, I truly was, but I realized that up until then I had never been challenged. Not truly challenged.

Nappa wasn't impressed with my being the Crowned prince, my father was delighted that he worked me so hard and apperantly his pay was directly related to how much I improved and matured in his service. As the days passed, he expanded my lessons until I was practicing full sets of katas 2000 times, not just select moves. My training was going longer and longer each week, yet mother wanted me to maintain my study-pace so I worked with a tutor during lunch and in the evenings after I bathed and before I took a bath.

I started waking up on my own and going without being reminded or nagged to the training yard. When Nappa arrived, he'd find me, performing a series of the katas he'd taught me, flowing with grace and speed from one set to the next, "789...790...791..."

He'd stand back and let me finish, then we'd spar and after he won-he always won in those early days-I'd drill katas 2000 more times. After about 6months, I was finally in a routine that allowed me to have lunch everyday and I even had some free time.

I hadn't had a day off yet, so having 1/2 days was a grand novelty. I was sore all afternoon, but I was satisfied. I looked in the mirror one day, and was impressed with how much I'd grown. I'd put on about 2 inches, but I was thin. It occurred to me that I hadn't seen my mother in almost 2 months, and even better, I hadn't even thought about Tarble.

However I was still a little boy and thought I was independant of her, I still liked to lay eyes on my mother every now and then and one afternoon I went to find her, she was in her garden, admiring the afternoon. She was doing a kata drill and Tarble was playing on the far side of the yard, I went to stand beside her and began doing the drill along with her.

"Hi, mama." I announced myself. She smiled at me. "Vegeta-oh my, you've gotten so big!" she finished her rep and then stood still to take in my appearance.

"My goodness, where has my son been these last several days?" I told her about my training with Nappa.

"I'm getting alot stronger." I told her, and I was. My power level had skyrocketed since I began working with him, in part because what doesn't kill a Saiyan makes him stronger and Nappa was really stern.

"I'm developing into a real warrior, I think." my mother smiled. "Of course you are." she agreed and she petted me and I purred softly, my tail twitching with my pleasure, as she stroked my cheek and spikes.

"Great galaxies, you look like your father." she observed and I beamed at that. Just then, Tarble came over. He'd grown alot in about 7 months. He was still a runt, but he'd learned to walk recently and was getting better at it. His hair was shorter than mine, like fathers, but like me he had mothers hair color. A rich shade of...black.

I know, to humans it might seem all the same thing, but Saiyans can percieve the different hues in dark color. His tail was still soft and fuzzy. He'd shed a lot when he had his toddler growth phase, I knew because I'd done it already, but his fur would grow in darker and thicker and when he was done he'd have slight rings in his tail. Like our mother. I had a ringed tail, but was too young to appreciate the appeal this held for the opposite sex.

I noted with interest that I still prefered him not to exist but I didn't feel as...agressive toward him. I didn't even feel like crushing his skull or stomping on his tail. I was actually proud of myself.

"Mama, wanna know how you can tell I'm growing up?" I said excitedly after I realized this.

She asked me how I could tell. "I'm not tempted to stomp on Tarble anymore." I informed her. She looked a little pale at that, but she said she was pleased I felt that way.

"Yeah, me too." I said and I meant it.

A little before I turned five, we discovered another reason I was exceptional. I had my regular physical. I'd needed more medical care in the months I'd known Nappa than me and half a dozen of any of my brothers had ever needed in our entire lifetimes combined when they did some blood work. I didn't know what all the hooplah was about, but I remember them whispering about me and deciding that my father and mother needed to be told ASAP.

They didn't tell me exactly what it was, so naturally I took it upon myself to find out. I snuck down to the medbay one evening in the middle of the night. Campaign season was ending and several teams were returning from long term missions. The med bay was full and on double staffed almost everynight. Also, many of the gestational tanks, where babies of lower class Saiyans were grown, were being born.

We'd developed a technique that allowed us to harvest eggs from mature females and then mix them with sperm cells of other Saiyans, allowing one woman to have up to 6 children a year without having to carry any pregnancies to term. After a woman, a young woman had donated a total of 18 viable eggs, she was free to go and make babies the traditional way with whatever Saiyan she fancied. Thankfully, most females had fulfilled this duty by the time she was 17. There was a program in place that paide them bonuses for every extra viable egg that they gave to the program.

There was another solution to, if a woman conceived the old fashined way, she could have the viable fetus transferred to a tank to finish the job. This option was becoming increasingly popular among woman, because it meant they could get laid, and still go on missions and get paid. and continued to be laid if they wanted to without worrying about their babies.

I didnt have any idea what all that meant, but Toma had told me and so I knew anyway. But anyway, I snuck into the medbay office and pulled my file and saw that they'd identified an anomoly in my bloodstream. I didn't understand exactly what an "Alpha trait type-X" was, but apparently I possessed it and it was extremely rare.

I was dissappointed but satisfied now that I knew what the docs would be telling my parents and I went back to bed. Over the next few weeks, I did research, trying to learn about the alpha trait type X. Alpha trait was something boys developed during puberty, it was something that dictated who would be an alphamale and who wouldn't. Most people were never told if they possessed the trait, but if they tended to have a band of companions who they dominated, you could assume they had an alpha trait. It also meant that they would have 2 sons first, then a girl and depending on what type of alpha trait, they had, you could reasonably predict what sex their children would be if you took into account their mothers geneaology.

I couldn't find alot of information about type-X exactly, but I talked about it with my brothers. Two of whom had developed Alpha trait during puberty. I just asked about it, claimed I was learnign about it for my class. They didn't have much to say that a book couldnt tell me, but it did explain, in part, why I'd reacted so strongly to Tarble. It makes you possessive and defensive, it also makes you empathetic to your fellow Saiyans ki, and more persuasive towards them. It was all chemical and had to do with phermones. Alot of males killed each other due to Alpha-Trait, because one couldn't be persuaded to be subservient to another, yet neither could except NOT dominating the other. A few years after puberty the effects of the trait became more dormany as you learned to cope with it, but it made you more perceptive and some even claimed it let you know the feelings of numerous Saiyans all at once.

I asked about the different types. Pargus didn't know much, only that some types were extinct, such as T, G and X. The others were basically just categories that dictated what their children would look like, and certain traits would always dominate in their children because of it. Only the fertilization and birth-techs needed to know all that crap though.

I didn't know what the hooplah was and my parents never announced to me or anyone else, as far as I know, that I possessed Alpha Trait type X. I saw some months later when I went in to the med bay again, that a certain page was missing from my file. I noted it, but of course I couldn't ask where the page I'd sneakily read-the report that said I possessed an impossible anomaly-had gone off to, now could I?

It didn't matter much anyway, because soon after I first learned I possessed a supposedly extinct blood trait, something happened that would change the course of my life forever.

Frieza returned to the North Galaxy. After many years of absence as he dominated and terrirized the distant star systems he'd returned. The news had everyone on edge and I picked up on the tension, perceptive as always. But no one would speak in the open about what this meant. I didnt like that, I had never known my people to show fear about anything.

I asked everyone I could, Nappa, mother, my teachers, the tech staff and my siblings. Those who knew something weren't talking and those who knew nothing could'nt be believed if they did talk. Finally I put in a request to see my father. I intended to get to the bottom of this business. Or at least I had intended to put in the request, I was looking for Zorn, my fathers assistant and secretary but when I saw him, he told me father wanted to see me, he led me deep into the palace and into a room I had never seen before. It was disguised as a part of the corridor wall.

My father was waiting for me inside.

He thanked Zorn for bringning me and then dismissed me.

It was really akward, I had expected-hoped, really-that father would notice how big I'd gotten that he would be able to tell just by looking at me that I was a better fighter than I had been the day he introduced me to Nappa. Instead, he didn't even seem to see me. He stared down at his hands and clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Vegeta, my son. come here. We must talk." There was an uneasiness about him that I had never seen before.

"What do you know about the Cold Empire?" he asked me after a few minutes.

"That its headed by Kold. He's a warlord." That was safe to say, right? I mean, everyone knew that. "He, uh...he knew Great, Great Grandfather, King Vegeta. We did business with him for a while, for almost two generations, he bought the services of our warriors and we won a lot of battles for him. People say he conquered half the Eastern Galaxy in just 60 year, but really, we did, we just did it in his name."

That was what I'd learned from books a long time ago. Everyone knew that part.

"When business turned, we broke from Kold and his goons.. He's been working on the South Galaxy for about 3 generations now, right?" I understood that we hadn't heard from the Kolds since my grandfather was a child.

"Thats right my son, but now, the Kold empire is back. Or rather, a prince from the Kold empire is back. He is called Frieza."

I will never forget that instant. A chill ran down my spine, I dont know why and-in an instant-my blood was ice. Then I was normal again and I wanted to forget the intense fear I'd felt in my belly. I remarked that it was a stupid name.

Father shook his head.

"Vegeta, you mustn't speak against Freiza!" he reprimanded me, "ever." He swallowed hard.

"There have been disturbing reports coming in from our bases...I have to go and check in to them, but I have a bad feeling about this. King Kold, thats their monarch, is looking for a worthy heir. He has two eligible sons, Frieza has come to the North Galaxy looking to win his fathers favors and be named his successor."

i was confused about that. So what? What did it mean for we Saiyans? I asked him.

I didn't realize it then, but my father was worried that I might become the first boy-king in over 4 centuries to rule the Saiyans and clearly I wasn't ready yet. Plus, even if I'd been ready to lead my people, I was no match for Frieza.

"It could be nothing, Vegeta. Lets hope that it is nothing, okay? Then you can laugh at me for being a silly old man and I'll be indebted to you for disturbing your day, huh?" he smiled at me but it didn't reach his eyes. I'd never seen such sadness in anyones eyes before. I realized then how much my father loved me. I could actually see it in his eyes and it made me love him back.

"I wont laugh at you father." I told him, and breathed deep. I liked my fathers smell, he placed his hands on my shoulders looked me in the eyes. I wanted to be brave for him, so I thought of all the things I'd ever done that made me feel brave and looked into my fathers eyes. I refused to show fear to him and after a moment, he smiled at me. This time it reached his eyes.

"I couldn't have asked for a better son and heir." he said. I blushed at that. I couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Listen, I worry that the Kold presences could bode ill for the Saiyan people, our colonies, our allies and maybe even the whole North Galaxy. I could be wrong, but for the Kolds, this is a time of high tension. Frieza will seek our services once more, like his father before him. I dont know that we can refuse him," Father sighed and dropped his hands to his side.

"Vegeta, be careful, do you hear me? I want you to be careful. Tread softly and keep your eyes and ears open. Keep your wits sharp and...just be careful."

I was terrified again. I wanted to run screaming from this secret room, from this secret meeting and go somewhere safe. I wasn't sure where was safer than the deepest, secretest room of my own home, where my fathers guards and subjects and finest and most loyal warriors lived and served us. But for the first time in my life I didn't feel at home in my own home. I didn't fell safe in my stronghold and the feeling was such an unsettling one.

The next morning my father announced that he, and several other rulers from our Galaxy had been extended an invitation to meet with Lord Frieza, of the Kold Empire for an assembly. No one knew exactly what that meant, but I realized later that this was a disturbing pattern I'd once observed in my history books.

Some new guy moves in, unnerves everybody and then calls for everyone of power to visit him on his own terms? It was considered cliche in stories but I had noticed it was factually relevant in history. Father was gone for 5 weeks, everyone was tense the whole time. I grew more nervous by the day, I tried to be careful, but of what? Of whom?

I was a lot stronger now and my skill had improved so that at 6 years old I could have an honest sparring match with Nappa. He couldn't go all out on me, but he didn't go easy either and I improved rapidly, but I couldn't relax. I stopped sleeping by the 2nd week of my fathers absence. The 3rd week I began to watch the transmission logs obsessively. I had always liked to watch the stars and observe ships near and far with our powerful telescopes from atop one of the many watch towers in the capitol. Now, I lay in bed every evening for about an hr, taking what rest I could then I snuck out my window and flew to a watch tower on the edge of the city and searched the heavens for any sign of the SSJ9000+.

I napped fitfully in the towers but the celestial alarm always woke me in enough time to make it back home without being missed. I thought I was rather discreet, and chalked Nappas annoyance up to the tension that had permeated everyone with Frieza back in town and my father gone.

I realized later that I wasn't as clever as I thought.

"There are watch towers here you know." Nappa told me the next morning as we drilled kata's. I didn't respond.

"Look, we all worry about your father, he's a great leader and a good man. But I cant have you running off in the dark of night. If you go missing too, there will be pandemoniom."

I froze in place, tried to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. "...too?" I croaked and Nappa went pale as a ghost.

"Too?" I repeated, I looked at him and I could see the truth of the matter in his eyes. Father was missing. His ship had been silent for several days and there was no one to confirm if he'd arrived or not to his destination. They knew he'd been missing and no one had told me...No one was talking about the fact.

Tears welled up in my eyes for the first time in nearly a year.

"Pr-prince Vegeta?"

I shook with the tension in my body, Nappa tried to touch me but I shrugged him off. I dropped the kata I was doing. My mind, I felt as though the smooth plane that was my mind had just been shattered. Ugly, unknown darkness threatened to pour in as the crack contined to spread over the fragile glass covering that protected my rational, innocent mind from the harsh realities of life.

I turned around and began to walk out the training ground.

Nappa called me.

Once,

twice,

three times.

I ignored him. I barely even heared him. The moment I was in the corridor, I began to run, faster and faster. I burst out of the hall, into a wash room. I crashed through a few soldiers who'd been goofing around but I kept going. Didnt' even give them time to register the fact they should've been bowing. I wasn't even sure where I was going, I couldn't get a single coherent thought to pass through my mind.

I put me head down and ran faster. I would've been faster to just fly, to my destination. Without having made a scene, but I wasn't thinking. Instead I took one winding stair case and then raced down several winding corridors, ignoring the beauty of the magenta sky visible through the long windows that were part of my fathers private corridors. When my siblings saw me coming, they just stepped aside and let me pass.

A few minutes later, I burst into my mothers chambers, tears in my ears. She was with Tarble and two young servant girls.

"Vegeta?" she said,

"Get out!" I screamed at the servants who were frozen in surprise. The older one, perhaps 14 or so, took a step towards me, "young prince, are you-"

"Get. The. Hell. Out." I bit out. "NOW!" They ran, frightened and I slammed the door behind them. I stood breathing heavily for several seconds, then mother called my name.

I ran to her, threw myself in her lap and for the first time since infancy, I cried in my mothers arms. She held me and whispered in my ears that I was a brave boy, it was okay to cry if I wanted to but I mustn't despair. She was so proud of me, she told me. OVer and over and over again.

Thats what I loved about my mother. She always just knew. She didn't ask stupid questions or try and make me talk about problems. She always knew what was wrong and she didn't make false promises or offer false hope. She didn't ask me "Are you ok?" when it was obvious I wasn't. She didn't pretend about power she didn't have. she didn't say "It will be okay" because she didnt know that it would be.

Nobody did, but anyone else would've said that it would be "alright" and that "things would work out" or some crap like that. She held me and let me cry for as long as I needed to, she wiped my face and I hiccupped, rather than mention I was crying she said I looked exhausted and sympathized with me about how hard it was too sleep as of late. She let me drink her tea and I fell asleep in her bed for the first time that I could remember.

I slept a dreamless sleep that night and woke sometime in the night to find that mother was there, sleeping soundly beside me. Stroking my spine in her sleep. The rythym was hypnotic, the feeling was so...soothing! I didn't even know I was purring in content, I was so mellow, that it didn't even bother me that Tarbles head was resting on me. I lay still and breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of love, affection and serenity that was my mother.

When I feel back to sleep, I dreamed of my mothers worried face and my fathers tense voice and my peoples worry and I dreamt that I made them all feel better. That all Saiyans everywhere could, just for one night, know the peace and serenity that I felt right now. That the one night could last forever.

Story word count: 4890. Anyway, so this is the 4th chapter, I've been brooding a lot about this entire saga, and even though I've run into a huge writing block with this story, I still have several chapters ready to go. I'd been meaning to rewrite this story in its entirety, but have decided that I like this form of the story.

-Gizzy


	5. Missed Chances & Misscommunications

**I can't even apologize for why this chapter is so late in coming. I've got a thousand good reasons, but all of them seem lame when I consider how long its been. Anyway, please count this as a Christmas present or something. Enjoy**

**Chapter 5: Missed Chances and Misscommunications**

As it turned out, we had worried for nothing.

Or rather, we had worried for the wrong thing.

My father wasn't dead. But we lacked the creativity to fathom Friezas twisted mind so we assumed his being alive was the best thing.

My father returned two weeks later than expected but very much alive. He called for a holiday and told the Saiyan people that things were not as we'd feared. He tapped into the coffers and imported enough wine and meat for a 2 day feast. While the Saiyan people made merry and enjoyed the revelry, my father called a private meeting of his most trusted officers and elite forces.

He informed them that things weren't as we had feared. They were worse.

Much worse.

Of course, I was still 6 years old and wasn't supposed to know about this, but I spied on the meeting. By hiding in the air vents. My father informed them that immediate counter measures must be taken. He ordered that the rate of the infant missions be stepped up. That he'd neglected sending more of his children off world for far too long and he wanted everyone over the age of 10 sent at once to a school-different schools. Around the galaxy. We had allies in the Eastern Galaxy, he told Zorn to check to see what sort of schools were available there that would take Saiyans.

"Friezas words were pretty. He was cordial, kind, accommodating." My father admitted when asked for the fifth time how things had gone. "But I don't trust him any further than it takes a shit to hit the floor!"

"He was _too_kind and accommodating. He is looking to set up an empire here, and wanted those present to join his federation. To sell our souls to him is more like it. The Kiotes told him that 1st night at dinner, where he could take his hospitality, they refused to even consider the bargain and Frieza...they didn't make it to breakfast the next day. Their ships were torn down for parts."

The Kiotes were a fairly new group but they weren't half bad as warriors or rivals for colonial expansion.

They were kind of arrogant, thinking they could count themselves equal to us, but Father had told me that we Saiyans hadn't wiped them out yet because our occasional conflicts with them made very good training missions for young Saiyans in need of the experience and besides, who doesn't enjoy a bit of healthy competition?

Mother had told me that they were extravagant. Their queen never traveled with less than a battalion of her finest warriors. The King too. They were different in that they had a weird government, something about a split monarchy with the King being in charge of parliament and the Queen leading congress while a speaker of the house controlled the judicial branch. Like I said, weird.

A Saiyan is master of himself, but will follow only one leader. Which is why we had either a King or a Queen, never both simultaneously. The only ones who could even be in a position to lead were those with an Alpha Trait, but you had to have a really strong one to be able to hold sway over all the Saiyans, also, my fathers line was the only family that possessed the unique ability to form a telepathic bond with as many Saiyans as we pleased. Most Saiyans were limited to only a few. 12 was about the max, even for someone with a strong variety of the Alpha Trait.

I was six and I had formed over 75 of these bonds, I could communicate with anyone of my siblings through Saiyan MindSpeech if I wanted to, and I did it almost instinctively. I could summon my companions to me, or my servants just with a thought. As I got older, I'd learn to wield the delicate threads of the mindspeech and be able to have actual conversations with anyone within a certain range of me about anything. For now, I could feel and understand intent and I could make my own intent clear also.

Someone asked about what was to be done with the other royal children. The younger children...with me.

My father was silent at that.

"We mustn't arrouse suspicion." he said at last. "I cant have all my children vanish in a weeks time or less. The older children, they must remain and continue to work and live for the Empire. The younger children...I will send them with their mothers on holiday...to enjoy the colonies in the Gamma Star System. It must be done circumspectly. I have reason to believe we've been under surveillance already. I want them gone in a years time." Father told them, careful not to mention what would become of his youngest children...What would become of me.

Nothing much was accomplished that night, it was just a meeting, just to let them know what Father had learned and what sort of provisions would need to be made over the coming months. They talked alot about getting Saiyans off the homeworld, Father was tense and his words ominous. Someone made an optimistic suggestion, I dont even remember what it was, but Father, in that moment just looked...

There is a story. About a man so arrogant that he challenged the wisest of the Kais to a duel. They dueled and the man won but only through trickery. As punishment, the Kais granted him his greatest desire. They gave him knowledge of the future. You see, this man was so arrogant and boastful but his greatest fear was his uncertainty, so he always carried the means to cheat or betray with him, lest one day his power prove insufficient, he would have the means to overcome by trickery. What had began as this warriors precaution had become a habit and now cheating was a way of life for this man who had always been arrogant but was once honest.

The man, at first, thought that he'd truly got one over on the Kais, but he soon realized the grave mistake he'd made. For in gaining knowledge of the future, he'd lost the ability to have hope. How can anyone have hope when they know what is going to happen? Its like hoping you will somehow survive a bullet, fired at point blank range, into your skull.

I later realized that my father had become the man from that fable. He had seen the future and he _knew_what was happening; knew that there was no hope. At the time, I was just a very scared little boy who regretted having spied on this meeting. As the weeks passed, I could feel the facade that my father worked hard to maintain weakening under the stress and the strain of ruling while trying to avoid servitude to another.

I watched my siblings play and train and work and live and they truly were oblivious to the impending threat. The very real danger that was on their doorstep. They worried only about where their next meal was coming from and if they'd have the right answer next time father asked them a question.

I'd have traded nearly anything to be amongst their ranks, but I, as the Crowned Prince, couldn't afford to be caught off guard, my ignorance could be very costly to my people. Father used to say that about himself and I had decided early on that the same applied to me. It wasn't idle curiosity that drove me to spy on my fathers secret meetings, but the fact that I might indeed become a boy king and if that were to happen, I didn't want my ignorance to cost my people our place in this world.

Frieza called on my father constantly, there were weird rumors that were denounced officially and weirder reports that didn't make sense unless the rumors were true...people went missing.

Ships were found abandoned, but the insides covered in blood. My father left short notice on a trip to investigate something. He went with just Zorn, left all his guards home because he didn't trust Frieza not to try something.

A couple of days after Father had left, Nappa and I were sparring in the training yard when an alarm flashed and a second later a small ship was closing in fast. I stood, transfixed watching it fall, sucked in by the gravity and then I was under Nappas arm and we were moving-fast.

I didn't even see where the other 5 guards of my private detail came from, but Nappa threw me into a small room, two of my guards took up posts in the room with me, two more were just outside the door. I could hear them with both my ears and my mind. The fifth guard was doing recon work to identify the ship that had come into Royal Saiyan AirSpace without clearance. Nappa was just down the hall, waiting and watching.

An hour later the door was opened and Nappa came in to get me. "Stand down men, Lady Kumba has called for her son. Come along, Prince Vegeta."

He took me to my mothers study. I hadn't been in this room for a long time now. But like I said, she was from a family of scholars, she was the only concubine to have her own study, but then again, she was the only one who'd thought to ask my father for one in the early days of their union. When I walked in, mother looked visibly relieved.

I noted that Tarble wasn't around.

"Vegeta, listen to me." she said quickly. She wanted me to learn to speak the old way, using SaiyanMind Speech. Not passively, like I had been doing all my life, but fluently. She was going to teach me and I had my first lesson that very day.

In the early days, Saiyans didn't use a verbal language. We could sense the variations in one anothers ki and could use our telepathy to clarify the reasons behind what ever it was we were feeling. Over time the language became fuller, more expressive and we learned to communicate Telepathically without ki. Naturally, if not trained or taught how early on, then we used the most ancient form of the MindSpeak language. Changing our ki and then using pulses, memories and images to explain why our ki was the way it was. It was crude and unrefined but adequete for basic communication of wants and needs.

Modern Saiyan MindSpeak allowed us a more regular grammar and made the language that much more expressive. It was especially popular with the very old and the very young. While many races loose their eye sight, or their hearing and sometimes even their sense of smell with age. We Saiyans tend to retain those senses, few Saiyans lived to old age but those who did sometimes lost their voice.

Some specialist thought it was caused from using ki blasts from our mouths. Others said we ripped our vocals up with all the screaming we do during powering up, others said it was a natural course of life and a small price to pay for a life as a warrior. Besides it was nothing to worry about, after all a language had been devised for just this reason

Mother begin giving me lessons, and using the mindspeak with me more regularly. She pushed back my morning practice. I still got up at the same time, but I had an hour with her, then went to the train just as day was breaking. We could no longer train in the yard outdoors. We trained inside, where it was stuffy and hot and you could only jump but so high. I didn't like it, but I didn't complain.

I wanted to ask about that ship, about my father, but I knew better. I was afraid to know. I didn't want to be like the man from the fable, the man who couldn't even hope anymore. My father returned just one day shy of a months journey. He and Zorn were both alive but the mission hadn't gone as they had hoped.

I began spying a lot. Mostly I didn't learn anything but when it came to spying on what happened in my mothers room, Tarble was good for this one point. In that he could get into a room and the adults ignored his presence. He was the one child of my fathers who commanded no special consideration, servants and my father alike, they ignored him. Which is why I took the advantage to bug him and send him to mothers room to sleep with her awhile.

I knew that she'd let him lay on the edge of her bed, and if Father wished to stay with her, he'd have one of the servants and a couple of guards take his son to his own bed.

I listened in on my audio reciever, as Tarble, gullible, trusting, naive, little old Tarble dreamt on with a wire transmitter hidden with in his spiky black hair.

Planet Sorri, father confided in my mother one night, was gone.

She asked him what he meant. She asked where the Sorrians had gone, how could they move the entire population.

"I didn't say they moved. I said its gone." My father laughed a hollow, humorless laugh. "and I mean its gone."

Mother was silent for a long time. I wasn't sure I understood either. How do you move a whole planet?

Mother asked him how he knew and what was the significance of such a thing.

"We were going to stop for fuel but there was nowhere to stop. Sorri is gone and in its place is a cloud of space dust...charred ruins are now asteroids. The moon is obscured by the cloud of space dust. Its the only thing in that quadrant with an orbit or gravitational pull."

There was silence and rustling after a while. I heard my mother whisper and my father sigh...followed by silence. There were little sounds every few minutes but at the time I had no idea what they could be. I didnt know to be embarrassed that I was listening to my parents love for one another, I didnt' even recognize the sound of them getting intimate. A few minutes later, someone came to fetch Tarble away and I was left with an uneasy feeling.

Maternal affection is displayed among Saiyans with nuzzling, scenting and massage. Embracing a small child was not unheard of but it was unusual. Mothers wanted their children to be independant and usually avoided holding or carrying any child old enough to walk under their own power. Romantic affection, is not too different. There is a lot of scenting and nuzzling of glands that goes on. Saiyans arent natural kissers but we do occassionally embrace a lover.

All told, my father had sired 37 children during his reign as King. 31 had been born alive. Only 22 had survived their early years of life and almost 10 of them even made it to young adulthood before Frieza showed up on the scenes. Only 2 of my fathers children would survive the Saiyan Genocides. 2 in 37, hmm...Thats barely a 5% chance of survival, now hows that for odds? My fathers last child to be born wouldn't survive the occasion and would claim one of his 5 surviving concubines when it went. I wouldn't have minded so much if it hadn't been my own mother who bore my fathers last child.

A human might think it strange that my father continued to have children after I had been dubbed his heir, but it wasn't strange to we Saiyans for a number of reasons, the first of which is that he was a man with a harem for crying out loud. Secondly, we Saiyans had a very high death rate and a low birth rate, not exactly the ideal situation for a race that wants to expand. Thirdly, what sexual being doesn't like sex? I mean, he could've had his children mixed in a petri dish and grown in a tank if it was just about an heir. But it wasn't. He liked the female companions he had and he obviously enjoyed them as his lovers, unfortunately two of his concubines died in childbirth, he never did get around to officiating replacements. I wonder sometimes even now if he would've had he been given the chance to.

Anyway, one day while I was having a mindspeak lesson, she told me about the baby. I didn't understand yet, I wasn't quite seven years old yet. As with Tarble, there was no outward indication that she was preparing to spawn or otherwise with child. "The baby does a lot of growing on the inside first. Its taking on the perfect form, the best shape." She explained to me. "Its a very small baby for a long time, only in the last month does it grow big enough to be born and get outside the womb."

"How do you know?" I wondered, looking at her, trying to see if there was a difference. She looked tired, but she always looked tired these days, she was still beautiful, the only thing I noticed was her lips were chapped, they had been for a long time. She looked the same now as she did all my life. Yet she was telling me soon her stomach would grow round and a little baby would come out of it.

She just smiled at me and told me that mothers knew these types of things and I accepted that. I wasn't sure how to feel about her having another baby. I still thought that Tarble had been a mistake but there was a part of me that wanted this baby, but for selfish purposes. Mother had liked Tarble a lot when he was an infant, even though he was a source of worry for her. Caring for him had made her happy, now Tarble was going on 3 years of age. I thought maybe caring for this baby could make her happy now.

I also hoped that this baby would make Tarble as miserable as his coming had made me. I was still annoyed by his passive attitude. He never felt or said or did _anything_that made him worth the trouble in my eyes. I was grateful for Nappa, he'd become a new mark of distinction for me and hearing Vegeta and Tarble from the same person in the same breath was a rare occurrence. Tarble was nothing like me and I did my best to ignore him as much as possible.

I had to work extra hard not to be upset in mama's presence. Now that I was learning the MindSpeak I didn't want anything to slip and hurt her feelings. I wanted to be strong for her because of fathers constant absences and the continuous strain on his family because of it. We were used to fathers being gone. Honestly we rarely saw him, I wasn't kidding when I said that he spent one or two days with his family a month. But he was usually on the planet, just occupied. When he wasn't on the planet, we had never worried about him before. Now that Frieza was around, everyone worried about everything.

Especially all these strange calls and little acts of destruction that continued to sabotage our operations. After Sorri vanished, we recieved distress calls from one of our new colonies but in the time it took for my father to get to the comm. tower, the colony was silent. Two days later, reports confirmed that the colony was gone. The planet in ruins. The few corpes that could be identified as Saiyans were shriveled and crisp.

Not burned, per se, but as if every ounce of liquid-water, blood, even urine and snot-had been sucked out of them.

We could only guess that a 'meteor' storm of unusual magnitude had rained upon the planet, torn a hole in its stratosphere and caused all the breathable gases to ignite or burn up and leave the Saiyans to die a horrific death. We could only assume that the blobs of the the thick, gelled substance had been the servants and non-Saiyan creatures on the planet. No one questioned how a meteor shower could have possibly struck from practically all angles at once.

Because we all knew that it couldn't have, but we simply couldn't say how any one could have performed such an attack in such a short amount of time.

Just like with Tarble, my father wasn't home when mother went into labor with their third child. This was a little girl, it took three days, which wasn't too bad, but I could feel mothers pain and hear her thoughts faintly in my mind even from her room. By the second day her thoughts had become fevered and erratic and medtechs were anxious.

For the first time in his life, Tarble was being difficult. He wanted to see mother and no one could console him. His power level was only about 6 then, but he was a Saiyan and of Royal blood. No one was sure what to do about him, he'd always been...fragile. His power level continued to flux, even as he grew, which was odd and there was nothing aggressive about him. No one was supposed to know that he'd been born with a brain injury. It was minor, a certain region in his brain didn't work properly, which was why he was so...off. His nerves suffered because of it and he couldn't control his power level. A doctor had told our parents that he would never learn how.

He was weak and pretty useless, but mother was oddly attached to him, she was always worrying about him and letting him get away with murder. Anyway, when he started acting up, for some reason mother thought it would be a good idea for _me_to get him. I didn't mind the break from training, I wasn't able to concentrate with her in the back of my mind anyway.

I could hear Tarble screaming just outside mothers door. About half a dozen of my siblings stood outside their mothers quarters and watched in shock as docile, mild little Tarble transformed into a little demon, hitting, kicking and screaming. He had knocked one nurse out-she lay crumpled in the corner, blood trickling from her head.

Two doctors were holding him-or trying to, each of them held on his arms but he kicked and thrashed with all his Saiyan might, when their balance was off, he pulled his arms together and knocked their heads together, they crumpled to the ground and Tarble raced for the door. I got to him first.

"No! No! I want her. I want mama! Lemme go!" I shook Tarble and yelled at him to shut up. He seemed to come back to himself then.

I pressed my ki down on him, willed him to be calm. It didn't work perfectly, but he did comply with my wishes for him to shut up and be still. He started to cry and I hated him because he was always crying. No one even bothered to give him pep talks about it, no one ever told him to be strong, to remember the proud history of we Saiyans and draw strength from the memory of our ancestors. I had began to hear that sort of crap more often than my own name in the past several months.

It took a little coaxing but I got him to settle down and began to lead him away, but I wasn't sure about where to put him. I wasn't even sure where his room was, as most of my fathers children roomed together, in the Royal families suite. But I wasn't sure which of the boys rooms was his. Or how I was going to leave him in his room when I found it and suddenly, I felt very much like child and I wished that mother would tell me what to do and how to do it because I didn't know the first thing about taking care of...anything really. I was taken care of, the greatest effort I had ever put forth to nurture any living thing was lifting food and putting it in my mouth. That was it.

Kakara, my fathers first officiated concubine, and therefor his oldest mate in terms of length of the relationship, and the unofficial leader of his harem and mother to 7 of my fathers children came and took Tarble away. He sobbed openly but she led him away and took him to her quarters. I never did thank her, when I opened my mouth, not sure what I would say to her, she said that I had more important duties to attend and walked away.

I stood there for a few more minutes then I turned and stood outside my mothers room, gazing at the door. She was silent but I could sense her pain...The doctors had picked themselves up and gone back into the room, a maid was reviving the nurse.

_Vegeta..._  
I felt her concious brush mine and immediately I perked up.  
_Mother?_  
_...Thank you...  
He cries so much, what am I supposed to do, mama?_ I said, wanting to have a normal conversation with her. Complaining about little brothers was relatively normal, right?  
She didn't respond.  
_Father has been called. He's on his way, he'll be here in 2 days._ I informed her. I felt a twinge of sadness from her.  
_Dont worry, I bet he names the baby in an hour tops._Father hadn't been happy about this baby. This one had been an accident, mother had worried a lot that he didn't want this one. The longer he took to name a child, was usually percieved as him having mixed feelings about a child. Or he simply put it off until he had time for us again, which is how one of my sisters had gone a month without a name. He'd seen her, but didnt pronounce her name until much later because he'd gone and gotten wrapped up in work.

_Vegeta, I know you...are busy,_ mother said to me. _But please, take care of Tarble, okay?  
_I sighed audibly._  
Yes mama._ I said obediently. _Okay._Then I turned and stalked off, back to my training.

I never have known whether or not she meant for that to be her dying request of me or not. But those were the last words I ever heard from her.

I learned that she was dead just after lunch the next day.

Father attended her funeral rites, and had her cremated. Her remains were stored in the mortuary vault along with those of members of the Royal Family.

Tarble didn't attend. I dont think anyone told him she had died.

He kept asking about her, if she were okay? He wanted to know had her pain gone away.

I assured him that she was no longer in any pain.


End file.
